A new level

Pregnancy, as it turns out, brings a whole new level of humiliation. Before, it was limited to the odd look from the occasion women and man the knew what was going on, and getting railed by my dad to fulfill some depraved family contract that says he is to knock me up before my brother could try to do the same. But now it’s real. The test says so. My body says so. And my father makes it official before the end of the day, calling me back into his office for a “serious chat.”

He’s sitting in his chair with his feet up, phone spinning in his hand. “I want that child growing inside you to be the healthiest baby ever,” he says, not bothering to look away from his window. “So you’re going to have to change a lot. Starting with your diet.”

I brace myself. I expect a hyper-macho paleo decree, or maybe an order to mainline raw eggs for “peak child development.” But instead, he says, “No more caffeine, kiddo. Not even decaf. Doctor’s orders.”

I blink. “What?”

“Caffeine is bad for growing babies,” He says before finally looking at me, “No more lattes, energy drinks, soda, or whatever chemical sludge you’ve been pounding.”

“But Dad—” I start, but instantly shut up. Because what’s the point? There’s no universe in which I win this argument, and I signed away my ability to win any argument with him the day I put my name on that stupid contract. I nod, numb. “Okay.”

He smiles, and for a moment, he almost looks like a real father, like the father of my childhood, like the kind of man who would teach his kid to ride a bike instead of a cock. “Good girl. You’re going to be such a great mom.” He says it with a straight face, like he’s reading a Hallmark card.

I’m so angry I almost laugh, but I leave his office in a daze, before I could laugh, because I know it would likely upset him to laugh in his face. I make it to my desk, lower myself into the chair, and stare at the beige expanse of carpet as if it might explain away all the stupid mistakes I have made that got my life to end up like this.

The next morning, I try to play it cool. I blend myself a smoothie at home and nurse it in the passenger seat as Dad drives us in. I even smile when he congratulates me on my “self-control.” while I make sure to leave half of the smoothie in my cup, hoping others will mistake it for my regular latte. Being the kind of woman who can’t function without caffeine, I know it would be obvious to the women if I walked in without a cup full of something.

But the smoothie smells nothing like my normal venti triple-shot, peppermint, iced latte. And Hazel noticed the moment I walked past her on the way to the company fridge. She raises an eyebrow and blocks the fridge. “Let me guess, your fifteen-dollar latte is, what, too expensive for you today?”

It was clear that she was probing for information. I try to laugh it off. “No, just overslept.”

Hazel narrows her eyes, tracking every micro-movement. “You? Overslept? You ride in with your dad every morning. That man let you oversleep?!”

I almost flinch, but manage a weak smile. “He had an early call that he took from home and was too busy to check up on me.”

Hazel stares, then glances down at my midsection with surgical precision, like she’s x-raying for a bump. She steps aside, giving me access to the fridge, as she said: “Sure… if that’s the story you want to go with.”

I winch because I knew I had at least half been caught, because she wouldn’t have moved if she didn’t know something, but still I try to play it cool. “It’s not a story, it’s what happened.”

Hazel laughs, “Yeah, just keep telling yourself that,” before giving me the kind of smile that makes you know she knows you’re lying. “Maybe tomorrow you’ll have time for your precious beans.” She gives me a wink before prancing off towards her desk.

At least the rest of the day was uneventful because Dad’s Calendar was too booked with out-of-office meetings for any ‘celebration’.

The next morning, she’s waiting by the elevator, surrounded by a small crowd of secretaries. The moment her eyes saw the mug from home in my hand and not the telltale cup from my coffee place, she said, “What are you going to tell me that you didn’t have the 15 dollars again today… Or are you going to say you were late in another way…”

I roll my eyes, try to laugh, but my pulse is racing so hard I worry she can see the vein throbbing in my neck. “You’re relentless.”

Hazel shrugs, then winks. “Just doing my job. Got to keep the office honest.” She then turns her back to me and faces the group of women surrounding her and says, “Well, girls, it looks like we got our answer… now let’s get to work,” before shooing everyone away and back towards their desks.

I let out a sigh of relief as I realize, yep, all my female co-workers know I am pregnant, but at least Hazel was nice enough not to **** me to explain every detail.

Knowing I have been caught, I carefully sneak to my father’s office, and I keep my voice low as I tell him. “I think everyone knows. About me. About the... well, you know.” It grosses me out too much to say the word baby.

He laughs. “Not everyone, just the women and me… But if you make it so obvious, even your brother might catch on… And I won’t be held responsible for your failure. So don’t you go thinking that this is your way out.” he gives me a wink, and I know at that moment it’s my responsibility to do what my dad says while hiding the fact that I am pregnant. I nod and leave.

At least the men in the office were too clueless and focused on their own ‘company benefits’ to notice. As long as I keep my head down and do anything to make it too obvious, the men, including my brother, stay clueless.